


Tether

by StAnni



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Established Relationship, F/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 22:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17796287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/StAnni
Summary: Perhaps his heart breaks for her too.





	Tether

Her heart breaks for Bruce, for the way that he sinks so fearlessly, blindly devoted, to the darkest parts of her. Her heart breaks for his lack of emotional armor, for the way he remains hopeful in the face of dead-ends and bottomless pits. Her heart breaks for the way that, subjected to years of Gotham, of her, he mistakes scar-tissue for skin. 

It is almost morning and the Manor is quiet – Alfred must still be asleep and next to her, face half shadowed, he sleeps quietly with an arm outstretched – the tips of his fingers resting against the skin of her shoulder. She could run a knife through his chest, she could slip poison between his lips, she could leave and never return. His trust in her, achingly steadfast, is a glaring testament to how dangerously abject her own character is in comparison.

She knows though, that when the day comes, because it will come, when she turns just so, just so that he can see the holes that go right through her, and then when he withdraws the love and trust and commitment that now floods her like a sun-shower, that she would be able to rise again, even if it is weakly, and breathe.  
She hasn’t moved, has barely blinked, but as if he can sense the thoughts keeping her awake, he blinks his dark eyes open – and regards her in silence. She doesn’t look at him, she has never been able to look into those eyes for too long – not when they were children, not when they were teenagers, and not even now, after having known each other longer than they haven’t. “Don’t, Selina.” He says in the dark and his fingers move, slightly, curling around her shoulder. She breathes out the word “What?” a pointless deflection – she knows, of course, that he knows her fears as well as she does. “Just don’t.” He answers, sinking deeper into the pillow again, closing his eyes – but his fingers now firmly around her arm – his grip sure and steady – a lifeline, for both of them.

And watching him fall sink back down into sleep like that, and with the tether so unwavering, so very Bruce – she leans down and joins him, linking her own fingers through his. Perhaps his heart breaks for her too.


End file.
